


Birds

by HappyHoloLady



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Library, Fluff, M/M, Shy Phil Lester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-07-04 06:21:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15835539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappyHoloLady/pseuds/HappyHoloLady
Summary: Phil is a library volunteer who somehow ends up helping with a children's activity.  And as he's working, he can't help but notice the curly haired stranger who is really good with kids and really good at making him smile.





	Birds

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there!  
> This is my first phanfiction, so I'm kinda still getting used to doing this. Sorry about all of the mistakes. I hope you like it!

In all honesty, volunteering at a library hadn't been Phil's first choice of places to volunteer. In fact, he hardly read, and it was a miracle he knew what he was doing at all.

But he couldn't deny that he loved it. The quiet hours when he shelved books made him feel peaceful, and he was constantly smiling as he worked. The library was always alive in it's own sort of way. The energy that it emitted was comforting. The air always smelled like books and it was always either quiet or filled with the happy cries of children. The large windows on the sides of the building let light stream in from all directions, and on top of the bright LED lights, the building always seemed like it was glowing, even when it was the darkest hours of night.

His time at the library was normally spent shelving, putting away books and internally singing the ABCs in his head. He always preferred shelving in the children's section since the book spines were usually in much more vivid color than those of the adult and young adult section.

Shelving was probably one of his favorite things to do. He loved spending the time in his own world, putting away the books easily, yet still feeling accomplished when he finished. His height also made it easy for him to put books away even when they were on the top shelves. He also supposed the constant exercise he was getting was good for him as well. Shelving was the activity he most enjoyed doing at the library, and so he tried to spend a good deal of his time doing it.

Which was why he didn't understand why he was helping with a children's event.

Of course, he knew how he had got here, but he didn't understand why God had made him such a fool, a boy lacking in the ability to tell people when he didn't actually want to do something.

It had started with PJ, his fellow volunteer, who had agreed to help with the 'Arts and Crafts Weekend' at the library. The library hosted activities like frequently over the summer in some grand plot to try to get people to come to the library more, which in turn would increase the number of people reading.

“It's going to be exciting, Phil!” he had rambled that day as they entered the library together. The sky had been a gorgeous blue, a few puffy white clouds dotted across the sky, moving along lazily. “There's going to be tons of kids, and tons of activities for them to do. Everyone is going to have tons of fun.”

Phil had been nodding along, only partially listening. His attention had been mostly focused on a family of birds that had made a home in the arms of a tall tree that stood proudly outside of the library. The birds overlooked the parking lot, and the mother had laid her eggs and was now keeping them warm. It was one of the cutest birds Phil had ever seen, and he was glad it had chosen here to make it's nest. _I can see them every time I walk in now,_ he thought.

“Phil? Are you actually tuning me out?” PJ asked him, stopping to stare at his friend.

“No, I wasn't tuning you out. I was just, um, thinking, I guess,” Phil said.

PJ gave an exasperated sigh at his friend's antics. “What were you thinking about that's more important than the upcoming Arts and Crafts Weekend that I'm telling you about?”

“Birds.”

“Birds?”

Phil motioned in the direction of the new nest and the mother bird who was now resting while keeping her eggs warm. “Birds.”

PJ stared at the nest and the bird inside of it. “Oh, well, I can't exactly argue with birds.”

“They're so cute, aren't they? I hope we get to see the baby birds soon enough.”

“Yeah, yeah,” PJ told him. “I hope so too. Anyway, about the Arts and Crafts Weekend-”

He was interrupted by someone walking into him, a tall figure with brown hair that was in a curled fringe. He was clad in all black, from his shirt to his shoes. He looked startled to have walked into someone and opened his mouth to apologize.

“Hey, we have the same hair,” PJ told him, cutting off any apologies he might have wanted to voice. Phil wanted to sink into the floor. _Why couldn't PJ just say sorry instead of pointing out the fact that he happened to have a similar hairstyle as this stranger?_ he thought.

But the stranger didn't seem bothered at all, smiling at the two boys. Phil observed how his smile looked and the way his whole seemed to join in on the happiness. “I guess we do have the same hairstyle. Maybe we're just secretly clones gone wrong,” he joked, smiling once again. “Anyway, sorry about bumping into you.”

“It's cool,” PJ said, moving so that he could let the stranger pass. The stranger smiled once again as he walked past, but this time the smile was different, more polite than before. Phil decided he liked the smile that the stranger made when he was laughing more.

“Phil, come on, we have to hurry inside or we'll be late,” PJ called out to him, already a few paces ahead. Phil hadn't even realized he had been standing still, but he giggled to try to brush it off as he walked to catch up with his friend.

The library was quiet today, with the loudest people in the building being the librarians as they answered the questions of people who were trying to check out books. The brightly colored walls seemed to be even brighter with the afternoon sun reflecting on them through the windows.

Phil only paused to admire the serene scene of the library for a moment. He quickly followed PJ into the back room, the place for employees and volunteers to converge before embarking to work on their tasks.

While the library maintained a bright and colorful theme to make the building feel more welcoming to children, the back room maintained a much more adult atmosphere, with light green walls and desks for the employees. There was a table in the center with the logs for volunteers, where they would record the time they entered, task they worked on, and the time they exited.

Phil headed towards the table where they kept the logs, finding the one for that day and writing his name in it, turning to check the time.

“Did she actually cancel?” a voice said from across the room. Phil recognized it as PJ, who was walking away from one of the librarians, deep in thought. He walked up to volunteer table next to Phil with an unreadable expression on his face.

Phil didn't like that expression.

“Safiya canceled,” PJ explained to Phil as he watched Phil write down in the log. “She apparently had to go a wedding or something that day so she couldn't make it. Which means we now need one more person.” Phil finally finished filling out the log and turned so he could see PJ. PJ had a new expression now, one that he recognized.

Phil didn't like that expression either.

“Do you mind filling in for Saf? I know you're free that weekend, and we need another person. You'd really only have to help kids with the activities and do a bit of setting up beforehand. Plus, you can get some extra volunteer hours,” PJ told him, trying his hardest to be convincing.

“I- I can't. I don't- I don't have legs,” Phil said trying to make his way out of the corner he had been backed into. He tried to move past PJ to get the cart of books he was supposed to shelf, but it was to no avail. When PJ wanted something, he was practicality an unstoppable force.

PJ laughed at his attempt at an excuse before trying once more to convince Phil. “Look, I know it's not what you normally do, but it'll be fine. I'm sure you're great with kids. And you don't have to do much work, just help kids tape things together and make sure they don't stab each other with scissors.”'

Phil stayed silent in hopes that it would make PJ realize that he didn't want to be a part of the Arts and Crafts Weekend. He was too clumsy in daily life to help kids handle scissors and glue and potentially dangerous objects. Not too mention his general awkwardness that got in the way of his daily conversation. There was no way he could spend 5 hours a day for 2 days talking to people and handling sharp objects.

But PJ took his silence the wrong way, misinterpreting what Phil was trying to say without words. “Great!” he said, grinning broadly. “I'll put your name down on the form and text you the details.”

Phil should have told him that he didn't want to do it, that he wouldn't feel comfortable doing it. But instead, he grabbed the cart like the coward he was and made his way to the children's section, shoving books, and hoping that it was all an illusion or a daydream.

His hopes were dashed when he got a text from PJ later that night telling him the time that he would have to show up on and what time he would be done.

_Now, Phil. Text him telling him that you don't want to take part of this, that you don't feel like volunteering at the Arts and Crafts Weekend,_

But PJ followed up with another text.

 

PJ Liguori  
Thanks for doing this, I appreciate it

 

Phil quickly extinguished any thoughts of backing out that he had. He couldn't deal with the guilt he would feel if he let his friend down. He couldn't tell him that he didn't want to now.

He would just have to spend his weekend volunteering at the Arts and Crafts Weekend.

And so, here he was. He was surrounded by children and crafts supplies, neither of which he was good at dealing with. Every time he thought of going up to the people and helping them, his stomach folded into knots.

It was times like this when he felt the most useless. He barely had a clue of what to do, and his nerves kept him from actually acting on it. He could see that the kids were confused, yet the idea of going up to them and helping them scared him so much that he couldn't do it. _This is why I don't do things like this,_ he thought miserably.

He didn't see what he could do. Phil had been pretending to be busy the entire time so none of them came up to him. But the strategy was working too well, and no one was coming up to him, even though they were having trouble and he had a lanyard clearly stating that he was the helper.

“Here, would you like some help?”

Phil heard the voice from across the room, calm and comforting. The voice was talking to a little girl, asking if she needed any help with the cotton-ball snowman she was making.

The voice was also startlingly familiar.

He turned away from the things he had been keeping himself busy with to turn to the direction of the voice, surprised at the fact that he recognized it.

There he was, the stranger from the other day, still with his curly brown hair and all-black ensemble. He was assisting a little girl with gluing together the 3 cotton balls to make a snowman. He looked deep in concentration as he helped her.

Phil couldn't help from staring for a few moments, looking at the stranger who was doing his job better than he was. He couldn't help from watching this boy help a little girl do the activity, and he couldn't keep his heartbeat from accelerating a little bit as he realized that this boy was getting absolutely nothing out of it. He was just doing it for the sake of helping the little girl make the snowman.

The stranger turned his head away from the snowman he was making for a second, looking up and noticing Phil. Phil could feel his cheeks get warm and his blood get cold as he made eye contact with the man.

But before he could look away out of sheer embarrassment, the brown-haired stranger waved at him, smiling. His smile was different from before.

_He has dimples._

With a small burst of bravery, he willed his legs to carry him over to the stranger and the girl and for once, they complied. He made his way over to the two of them without tripping over his feet. He tried to appear nonchalant as he walked over, making an attempt to disguise the way that his heart was beating.

“Would you like some help?” he asked the two when he finally made his way to the station for the cotton-ball snowmen. His heart was racing and he couldn't even keep track of why it was beating so quickly, only that it was.

The boy and the little girl both smiled at him, making him smile back. _Okay, this isn't so bad. I actually know how to do this one._

He took out one of the glue bottles from their place in the basket of materials. He turned to the little girl that he was helping. She was watching him intently, her eyes following his every movement. The fact that she was staring at him scared him, making him falter momentarily.

_You can do this, Phil. You just have to clue together 3 cotton balls and put a cardboard hat and face on it. You can do this._

He took a breath, looking back at the girl who was still staring at him. “Do you mind holding the cotton ball for me while I put the other one on top of it?” he asked her. She smiled, her entire face brightening as she held the cotton ball.

Phil squeezed a tiny bit of glue onto the cotton ball before placing another one on top of it. He held the cotton ball in place for a little bit, letting the glue dry a little bit. He turned his head, looking for another cotton ball to place on top of the stack he had made.

Then, as if reading his mind, the boy held out his hand and offered Phil a cotton ball. “Here,” he said to Phil, handing him the ball of fuzz.

“Thanks,” Phil says, ignoring the way his heart is beating faster than it was beating before. He squeezed some more glue onto the snowman before stacking the final cotton ball on top.

The girl's eyes lit up, glowing brightly as though someone decided to light a fire in her irises. She smiled holding her stack of cotton balls proudly, as though it was a gold medal.

“Mommy! Look! I made a snowman!” she cried, running over to who Phil assumes is her mother.

“Wait,” Phil called out feebly to her. “You forgot the face and the hat.”

But his calls are interrupted by a laugh from behind him. He turned and saw the boy laughing, his eyes bright and his mouth wide. Phil could clearly see the dimples in cheeks, and he can't help but think about how much he wants to make this boy laugh again.

Phil always thought that people who giggled had the best laughs. With the way they cutely expressed their amusement, he always thought that people who giggled had the best laughs.

He was wrong.

This stranger has a laugh that seems to take up his whole body, his entire being laughing. His laugh is large and present, and it's probably the best laugh Phil has ever heard.

“My name is Dan, by the way,” the boy – Dan – said in between laughs, catching his breath as he spoke.

“I'm Phil.”

The best part about his laugh? It's clearly contagious, because soon enough, Phil is laughing alongside him.

As soon as the first day of the Arts and Crafts Weekend is over, Phil went home and slept for hours, collapsing from the exhaustion of moving around, dealing with people, and helping with crafts.

And of course, spending 5 hours with Dan.

Phil didn't think he could have so much fun with someone he'd only known for a short period of time, but he left the library with a smile on his face and butterflies in his stomach.

Even as he collapsed onto his bed after 5 hours of hard work, Phil couldn't stop thinking about him and the way he laughed.

The way he smiled.

The way he patiently explained things to children.

The way he made jokes and looked so happy when people laughed at them.

Phil couldn't stop thinking about Dan, and the way he did everything. He couldn't stop thinking about how happy he had been the last 5 hours, and how badly he wanted to talk to Dan again.

And if God was real, they must have been listening. Because even if Dan didn't show up for the second day of the Arts and Crafts Weekend, Phil still did get to see him again.

The next time, he had been shelving. He felt comfortable in the quiet of the library, putting away books in their correct spots. It had been almost a week since the Arts and Crafts Weekend, and he had used that time to convince himself that Dan didn't actually matter as much as he thought.

_Or maybe Dan was a figment of my imagination, an illusion created by my subconscious to try to tell me something about who I am on the inside._

“Hey, Phil!” a voice called out.

_Or maybe not._

Phil turned to face Dan, who was standing right beside. Phil almost stopped breathing when he realized how close the two were. He quickly made movements to create space between the two of them.

“Oh, hi Dan,” he said, trying to put the book he was holding into it's proper spot.

“What are you doing?” Dan asked, watching Phil place books into their correct locations, sorting through the cart.

“I'm shelving books. I basically have to put all of the books on this cart into the places that they're supposed to be.”

“Oh, that's cool. Do you do this when you're not helping kids with arts and crafts?”

Phil turned to look back at him, noticing the way his eyes sparkled and danced. It was as though there were tiny jewels hidden inside of his irises. He faltered momentarily before remembering to say something in response to the question.

“No, I actually do this more often than I work with the kids. I'm actually one of the most boring volunteers here,” Phil told him, picking up another book. _Well, now he knows how uninteresting I actually am. He'll probably leave now._ Phil tried to ignore the way his stomach sank at the thought of Dan leaving. Something about the idea of never seeing Dan laugh or smile again made his world feel overcast in disappointment.

He looked towards Dan, who was smiling at him, still there. “Well, I can't blame you. After all, the kids do like me better.”

Dan's voice was infused with fake haughtiness and Phil couldn't help but giggle at the face he was making.

“It's only because of your genetic mutations,” Phil told him without thinking. _Way to go Phil, that was probably the weirdest thing you've ever said._

But Dan only looked confused for a moment before laughing, the same way he had laughed at the beginning of the Arts and Crafts Weekend, and the same way that he had been laughing the whole rest of that day.

Phil still thought it was one of the best laughs ever.

“You mean my dimples?” Dan asked, still laughing. Phil was mildly aware of the fact that he was smiling, and that his productivity had gone down ever since Dan arrived, but he found that it didn't bother him.

“Yes, I mean your dimples. They give you an unfair advantage,” Phil told him, ignoring his heart, which had chosen now to beat faster than normal.

“Aww, is poor Philly upset about the fact that Dan is better with kids than he is,” Dan fake mocked, smiling at Phil.

“Never call me Philly again.”

“Well, now that you've said that I'm going to do nothing but call you Philly.”

The two boys both laughed, trying and failing to be quiet in the stillness of the library. Phil couldn't ignore the fact that Dan made him laugh more than he normally laughed with other people.

Phil couldn't ignore the fact that he wanted to be around Dan some more.

He also couldn't ignore the disappointment that settled in when he looked at the clock and realized his shift was over after spending an hour with Dan. They had laughed about their shared interests in bands and anime and TV shows, with Dan spending a good deal of time teasing him about his crush on Sarah Michelle Gellar.

And Phil couldn't ignore the fact that when his shift was done and he should probably be leaving the library, he felt mildly upset.

“Um, my shift is over now, so I've got to go sign out and leave, so um...” his voice trailed off, hoping Dan would say something, asking him to stay, or inviting him to do something.

But all Dan responded with was “Oh, okay then, I'll see you around, I guess?”

Phil decided he must have imagined the flash of sadness that overcame Dan's features as he walked away, trying his hardest to seem like he didn't mind the possibility that he would never see Dan again.

He sighed as he put his exit time on the log, signaling that his shift was over. Someone else would be coming to shelve the books soon enough, so he probably should leave. He walked out of the library, taking long, slow strides. The bright colors of the walls seemed a bit dimmer than they normally did, and he couldn't help but feel as though the world had gone a tad bit dimmer than before. He walked out of the library into the humid air of the summer day, the sun glowing brightly over their heads.

“Shake it more, come on!”

He turned his head towards the voices, wondering what the commotion was. There were 3 little boys huddled around the oak tree, making noise and moving around.

When he saw what they were trying to do, his heart stopped and his blood went cold.

“Come on, shake it harder! Let's make this thing fall out!”

“Yeah, come on, we can do it!”

_They're trying to knock the bird's nest out of the tree._

Phil felt useless. His legs wouldn't move, his mouth wouldn't open. He didn't know if it was in horror of what they were trying to do or his own fear of confrontation. Phil was fairly sure his heart had fully stopped beating, and he was now just watching on in horror, trying and failing to move.

If he didn't do something, the eggs would fall on the pavement and break. His stomach was sinking and he felt hopeless. It was as though he was watching a movie. He was unable to do anything but look on in horror.

 

_I need to do something. Someone needs to do something. They need to stop, someone needs to stop them._

 

“Knock it off!”

Phil heard the voice that was so familiar now. The voice of the person he had just spent the last hour with. He heard the voice and he felt an immediate shock of relief course through him.

Dan walked up to the boys, looking different from before. If Phil had only ever seen this version of Dan, he wouldn't have guessed it was the same person who spent 10 minutes making jokes as he taught a little boy how to make 'squareflakes.'

Because this Dan looked different. He looked angrier than Phil would have thought would have been possible for him. In all honesty, Dan looked kind of scary.

Then again, it was probably scarier for the children, who were probably around 10 and were now staring at the angry 6-foot man who was telling them to stop what they were doing.

So, it wasn't a huge surprise when they turned around and ran.

Dan went up to the tree, inspecting the nest to make sure it was okay.

As Phil watched, he realized that in the last few moments, when Dan had shown up, he had immediately felt happier. He felt relieved and happier, excited to see him. He had felt almost giddy at the sight of Dan, which was a feeling he wasn't used to feeling very often. But, Phil realized the feeling now. He finally understood why his heart beat a little bit faster around Dan, or why he smiled more when spending time with him.

_Come on Phil, be courageous. You can do this._

But Phil didn't think he could. He didn't think he had enough bravery to do this, and he was so close to backing out, to leaving and forgetting that he ever thought of it.

But before he could, Dan looked up and waved. The same wave that he did when they made eye contact at the Arts and Crafts Weekend. He was smiling the same smile too, his dimples on show.

And just like at the Arts and Crafts Weekend, Phil felt a burst of bravery come from somewhere within him, willing his legs to walk over to Dan.

“Hey, Phil,” Dan said, still smiling.

“Hey. So, um, that mama bird can't exactly thank you for saving her babies, so I was wondering if I could thank you instead? There's a coffee place that's within a 5 minute walk that we could go to. Um, if you have other things to do, that's fine. Or if you just don't want to go, that's fine too, ah, yeah, so...” his cheeks were a furious red, and the blush went from his cheeks to his ears.

But Dan was smiling, a smile broader and more beautiful than any of the other smiles that Phil had seen. He looked happy, and it made Phil's stomach flutter.

“I would love to get coffee as repayment for saving the birds,” he said locking eyes with Phil.

And as Phil looked into his eyes, staring at the happy warmth inside of them, he knew that both Dan and him were aware that Phil was taking him to coffee for more reasons than saving the birds.

And as Phil walked with Dan, smiling as they made their way to the coffee shop, he felt thankful. He felt thankful for Dan for existing, and being willing to spend time with him. He felt thankful for PJ, who unintentionally helped Phil meet Dan. He even felt thankful for the boys that had tried to push the eggs out of the nest, since their actions had indirectly lead to this.

But most importantly, he felt thankful to the reason Dan and Phil were walking down the street right now, smiling at each other as they made jokes. Phil felt thankful for the birds.


End file.
